Finally
by Videokilledme
Summary: Bella and Edward- enough said. I don't know a lot about Twilight, so forgive any inconsistencies. It's rated M, because I don't like censoring. Please read...or I'll kill you. Okay, that's probably not likely...
1. Chapter 1

Writer's Note: Sorry, this is kind of horrible. I'm not used to writing in 1st person, let alone in past tense- so if there are grammatical errors, I'm sorry. Actually, I'm not used to writing, so that may be where most of the errors lie. Thanks to Heather for helping me with the details to Twilght- an area I'm clueless in. There will be more chapters, I swear.

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One by one the Cullens politely filed out the door, until it was just Edward and I. Alone. Finalfreakingly.

Edward wasted no time with the preliminaries. As soon we heard the rumble of engines fading in the driveway, he started kissing me.

I approve of the kissing. When we are kissing, we can't start arguing, nor can we debate over his morality and my mortality- 2 of our favourite arguments. The only downside to the kissing is when it ends...

..and it always ends.

Too soon his lovely lips left me. We broke apart noisily. I struggled to compose myself and control my disgustingly human panting

I can only imagine how he feels- how he constantly yearns for all of me but can't have me (without killing me, that is). I felt this way when he finished kissing me. My lips ached, every nerve in them pleading for his return.

"Let's get you out of that wedding dress, shall we?" He whispered, his eyes sparkling wildly and his lips curving into his infamous lopsided grin. The grin seemed a lot less innocent and more sinister when paired with that sentence.

I gawked at him- eyes bugging out of their sockets and mouth open stupidly. I had never heard him speak so pointedly about a subject he had been stubbornly avoiding for months. Then I realised the sentence wasn't meant to be sexual. It was impractical for me to remain in my wedding dress. It was white and delicate, whereas I was clumsy and prone to spilling things.

He took my hand and led me slowly up the stairs, building the tension that was spread so thick as it was. It was so palpable, I could have reached my hand and grabbed a handful of it if I wanted to.

When we got to his room, he let go of my hand and shut the door. He sat down on his bed and stared at me- not doing anything or clueing me in on what he wanted me to do. The tension was thicker. I could mold it if I wanted to- form it into whatever shape I desired. Instead, I awkwardly sat down next to him.

His arms were a blur of black and white as he reached for something on my head. He must have seen me flinch. He slowly held out the bobby-pin, as if he was showing an armed police officer that he was carrying no weapons.

"Would you rather leave your hair up?" he asked innocently, raising one eyebrow. I knew him well enough to know that this wasn't a question. It was his odd way of informing me of what he did/was doing/is about to do.

I shook my head no, answering an otherwise rhetorical question. He turned me around so that my back was to him and started the laborious task of removing every single bobby pin. In a desperate attempt to control my hair, Alice piled on the bobby-pins and hairspray. By the time she was finished, my hair was arguably heavier than the rest of my body and my head drooped from side to side like a bobble-head.

I realised then that it had been silent for the past 10 minutes. The only noise in the room was the sound of Edward's controlled breathing as he concentrated on the task at hand. I had to say something, the silence was killing me. It felt too artificial and heavy.

"So..." I began, trying to hide the smile from my voice, "I guess tonight is the night you finally become a man."

"Not funny." He growled, but the inflections in his voice proved the opposite. I could tell just from his voice that he was grinning.

"Oh? I beg to differ. You're an 110 year old virgin. That's _very_ funny. You put Steve Carrell to shame." I made a tsk noise and I shook my head disapprovingly, which was difficult considering I still had about 200 bobby-pins, 20 pounds of hairspray and a pair of vampire's hands weighing it down.

"Are you done yet?" This time he sounded annoyed. That struck a chord.

"Not quite."

He sighed. "Remember, I'm still not promising anything. I _can't_ promise anything... Alice really loaded down your head, didn't she?" He added as an afterthought.

I nodded my head while absentmindedly playing with my wedding ring. I still wasn't used to it being there. It felt heavy, despite the fact that it was relatively light.

I felt his hands on my arms as his carefully spun me around so that I was facing him. It didn't surprise me as much as it used to. I was used to being the family's barbie doll. I have learned just to be passive as they position my limbs this way and that. He continued taking out the bobby-pins one by one while his other hand played with the hair he had already taken down. It felt good for my hair to return back to its normal position after being in the tight bun all day. The pressure from the bun made my scalp feel tight and itchy. I resisted the urge to scratch it.

"Before we begin anything, we have to set a few ground rules." He said, while taking out a bobby-pin that held up about half my hair.

I made an annoyed noise that sounded like an engine stalling in my throat. It was unflattering, but it got my point across. I should have known it wouldn't be easy. Now he's going to re-explain every single insignificant reason we can't do it.

"You know I still don't approve..." he started.

I cut him off, angrily. "You know I don't care!" This was not going to turn into another one of _those_ arguments.

"I'm not saying that we're not going to do it, I'm just stating the obvious. I don't approve of half the things you do...'' he patiently explained.

"Like what?" I viciously interrupted again. I couldn't help it. The calmer he was, the more defensive I became.

He sighed. "Like the fact that you are alone in a house with a bloodthirsty vampire."

I refused to point out that this "bloodthirsty vampire" probably cared more for me than all of the humans in the world combined.

"Your rules?" I reminded him frostily. He was staring at me intensely and I didn't like that. I felt as if he could see right through me, even if he couldn't read my mind.

"Yes. My rules." I could tell he was going through a mental checklist in his mind. "One- when I say stop, that means stop. This is for your safety..." He added when he noticed me opening my mouth to argue. "You don't know what is going on in my brain. You have no idea if I'm about to kiss you or rip out your throat."

I flinched at the violent picture he vividly painted in my mind. "I highly doubt..."

"Doubt it or not, you have to agree to stop while I still have some grasp on my self-control- however feeble it is. You overestimate my self control"

"You overestimate my self-control" had recently become Edward's mantra.

"You underestimate your self-control." I retorted. Although I appreciated his efforts to keep me safe, he needed to receive some credit where credit is due.

He rubbed his temples and took a deep breath, like a parent does when he's explaining why sharing is important and the child doesn't comprehend the concept. "Regardless, I need to have your word that when I say stop, you'll trust my judgement and not try to pressure me into anything..." He paused, waiting for my affirmation. I weakly nodded while he worked on gently brushing the hairspray out of my hair. He had removed all of the bobby-pins and they were sitting in a pile at our feet. It amazed me that he was able to remove all of the bobby-pins so quickly. He was having difficulty getting the brush through my hair while being gentle. It was practically solid- like the an action figures hair- plastic and hard.

He chuckled. The brush was stuck inside my hair. He let go of the handle and it stayed put. "You may need to wash this out."


	2. Chapter 2

**It **_**only**_** took me a week to update. Sorry. Please rate/comment/whatev. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. I'm not Stephanie Meyer, but how awesome would it be if I was?**

"It would have been easier if you took off your dress _before_ getting your hair wet."

I couldn't see Edward's face when he said this, considering I was huddled over the sink like a hunchback, but I could tell he was amused. I took his advice and ran my hardened mass of hair under the cold water of the sink for a couple minutes, trying (desperately) to loosen it. Edward watched me from the doorway, humoured at my ridiculous attempts to fix my hair without having to take off my wedding dress.

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn't see it and therefore he couldn't appreciate my withering sarcasm. "Thank you for pointing that out." I didn't want to tell him that the real reason why I didn't take off my wedding dress was because I didn't know how to take it off. I had _lots_ of help getting into it this morning and I wasn't quite ready to take it off yet. It was hard enough getting it on, and I doubted that Edward had magically become an expert on women's clothing overnight.

"Do you need some help?" He asked, trying and failing to hide the delight in his voice.

_**YES**_!! My inner-voice was pleading for help.

"No. I don't need any help," I said as politely as I could manage with half of my head submerged underwater. The hairspray had been long removed from my scalp. The only thing that was delaying me was the sad, sad fact that I couldn't find a way to get out of the sink without permanently damaging either myself or the wedding dress...maybe even both. I definitely hadn't thought this plan through.

Suddenly he was behind me, one hand on the small of my back, the other hand was draping an unknown object over my shoulders. "Stand up." Only Edward could make a command sound gentle.

"Uhmm..." I still wasn't confident in Edward's unknown plan to rescue me and my precious wedding dress from the vicious sink monster.

"It's okay," he coaxed. "Stand up." He guided me up and gently fixed my hair on the towel that he had draped over my shoulders. In one swift move, my soaking wet hair was successfully pulled up in a towel and no longer in danger of damaging my wedding dress.

I glanced sideways at the mirror. Before the wedding, I felt like a child who was playing dress-up as a bride. Now, I looked ridiculous in such an elegant wedding dress with my makeup running and my hair pulled up like a Ms. Chiquita (minus the fruit).

He followed my gaze and laughed harder than I had heard all night.

"I'm glad you find this so entertaining," I muttered bitterly.

Before I could even blink he was at my throat, tracing a searing line to my lips with his ice-cold lips. Finally, his lips found what they were searching for. He delivered a scorching kiss, eyes blazing but his lips as icy as ever. By the time he was finished, I was panting again.

"Do I finally have permission to get you out of that ridiculous dress?" He asked quietly, his eyes burning into mine.

I wanted to explain to him that the dress wasn't ridiculous, but I didn't trust myself with whole words, let alone intelligent phrases and complex sentences. I settled on nodding my head feebly.

We were back in his room so quickly, that I was almost confident we had transported there. He spun me around and started smoothly undoing the intricate lacing in the back, proving my "Edward didn't know his way around women's clothing" theory disturbingly wrong. He worked painfully slow, as if he were disabling a bomb- delicately releasing me from my silk and lace cage.

"I still haven't finished explaining my rules." He reminded me cautiously, as if waiting for me- the bomb encased in ruffled ivory fabric- to explode. To his surprise, I wouldn't explode. Correction: I couldn't explode. I was content to stand in his bedroom- his hands gently caressing my back through my slip as he worked his way down the lacing.

"Rule Two: When you say stop, I will stop." He paused waiting for me too argue, but I was too drugged by his presence to put up a good fight. Besides the rule seemed sensible enough. "That means that _you_ will need to take precautions for your safety as well."

That shook me out of my semi-coma a little bit. What kind of precautions was he talking about?

"Like what?" I tried to sound more confused than angry, because I didn't want to ruin the nice atmosphere that had lulled me into submission before.

"Remembering to breathe, for one..." He couldn't repress the laughter in his voice at the painful memory of our 2nd kiss- the one where I honestly forgot to breathe.

I cringed. "Okay...fair enough. Rule 3?" I asked begrudgingly.

"Rule 3: You have to tell me what you want." He stated carefully, gauging my reaction. I was a little confused, because I had no idea what he was referring to. "I'm not a mind-reader, Bella...," he paused, realising the contradiction in his statement. "Okay, that's a lie. I can't read your mind, so I have no idea what you are thinking."

As he spoke, his hands left my back and the dress slipped down to my ankles. I obediently stepped out of the dress. I was still wearing a slip, but I felt naked without the abundant fabric of my wedding dress covering my body.

He left my side to hang up my dress. He carefully relaced the dress, even though it would probably never be worn again. As ridiculous as it sounded, I kind of missed it. It nauseated me when I first laid my eyes on it. It was strapless with a severe a-line skirt, so it looked like a funnel with a tiny top and a voluminous, layered skirt. Naturally, since Alice was involved, there was plenty of lace and frills decorating the bodice. It was so intimidating, even though it sort of reminded me of a demented marshmallow. It was so much prettier and more delicate looking than I. For that reason, I despised it. As Edward was hanging it up, I glanced at it again. It looked limp and empty. Instead of hate, I felt pity towards it.

Suddenly, I realised that Edward wasn't at the closet anymore. My eyes scanned the room, yearning for him. It didn't take me long to find him. He was standing in a corner gazing at me with a peculiar expression on his face. Then, he was a blur of colour as he came streaking towards me, his lips at my throat. I didn't flinch- my reflexes seemed to be aware of the fact that he wasn't a threat. He started kissing at my cheek, then traced a trail down to my neck.

"You're so..." he paused, as if searching for the right word. "You're so...warm," he murmured into my collarbone. I frowned, thinking of a bucketful of other adjectives he could have injected into the sentence- beautiful, sexy, gorgeous etc. I guess warm would have been the most accurate, wherever he touched me my blood seemed to boil. He, however, seemed to be getting colder- if that was possible. I was surprised that his fingertips didn't melt as they caressed my searing skin. I half-expected them to sizzle, leaving cold, watery trails.

Too soon, always too soon, he slowly pulled away- leaving me gasping and breathless.

He spun me around so that he was facing the back of my head and started fiddling with the clasp of the pearl necklace I was wearing.

I could feel his icy breath in my ear. I held my breath, anticipating his words. When he finally spoke, his voice was like silk- soft and irresistible. After all this time, it could still melt my core and make my knees shake. "Now, let's discuss rule 4..."


End file.
